


Forsaken

by NotNecessarilyinBetween



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: After chapter 108, Depression, Finding Oneself, Friendship, Gen, Not Epilogue Compliant, ed would not be alright after losing his alchemy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotNecessarilyinBetween/pseuds/NotNecessarilyinBetween
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirteen months, five days, and four hours, was the time when Ed left Central, and all the people and things he used to know behind. Thirteen months, five days, and four and a half hours, and Ed was gone. X post from FF.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was funny, how quiet things were. Ed was used to noise, his brother rattling around, Team Mustang chatting back and forth. The whispers in the library as he researched his newest alchemical interest, Ling talking in the background, even the clattering and banging when he and Al had stayed in the dorms.

Things had changed, though, after the Promise Day. Al had regained his body, and Ed was so so indescribably happy. His face had hurt for weeks, constantly smiling, because Al was back, and everything he had hoped for, everything he had dreamed of, had paid off. He didn't mind that he hadn't gotten his leg, didn't mind that his alchemy was taken. He had Al back, and that meant he had done what he had needed to do.

Al's recovery was slow, he had to get full physical therapy, but it was paid for by the government, which was a nice gesture for them saving the whole country, maybe world. Ed had stayed with him day after day, bringing in books, supplies, always making sure his brother was safe. Al kicked him out of the room a lot, telling him to go enjoy himself, that he was finally free to do what he wanted.

He didn't know what that was, though.

His entire life had been spent on alchemy, every moment trying to bring his mother back was spent studying, or fighting, or doing stupid missions for the bastard. Even before that all he had done was study alchemy, trying to learn as much as he could, use as much as he could, do as much as he could.

But now he couldn't.

He had resigned from the military, after all, what was a State Alchemist who couldn't do alchemy?

For a while he had kept up with Team Mustang, meet ups, and sometimes stopping by the office to yell at the bastard, but they were cleaning up after the entire government had collapsed and so had gotten busier and busier.

So they had stopped meeting up.

As he wandered the streets of Central, people would call out for him. Fullmetal Alchemist. The People's Alchemist.

But he wasn't.

Al was getting better and better, he was finally able to go outside on his own, and he started exploring the world.

Ed was ecstatic, Al was finally free of the mistakes he had made, of what he had caused, of his sin.

He thought about sin a lot.

He knew he shouldn't, he knew Al always told him it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault that Lior had fallen.

It wasn't his fault that Havoc had been stabbed.

It wasn't his fault that Lan Fan had lost her arm.

It wasn't his fault Mustang had been blinded.

That a war happened.

That so many people died for a cause they didn't even know they were fighting for.

That a wife and child were left without their loving husband.

That a little girl and her dog could never play together in an open yard.

That he had almost killed his brother, trying to bring back their mother.

It wasn't his fault.

But it sure damn felt like it.

Maybe it had been going for centuries, maybe it all started with the bastard Hohenheim, but everything had started to move when Ed tried to bring his mother back.

Everything connected there.

So how was it not his fault?

With Al around, he was distracted enough most of the time to not let his mind wander too much, he was able to pull it back.

Then Al left, too. He went to Xing to study, and Ed was so proud, so happy for him, that he could finally live the life he wanted.

But then he was left. Alone. With too many scars on his body and mind that would never quiet down.

He moved to a small apartment near the edge of Central, not near anything or anyone.

He hadn't thought of Resembool for a while.

He didn't drink, he knew it would be a waste, and he tried to find new things to occupy his time, new fields of study, new technology, and for a while that worked out.

But it was getting too quiet, and his thoughts were too loud. Things he could have done better, should have done better, if he had been smarter, quicker, more prepared, less stubborn, more willing to listen.

He couldn't sleep anymore, even his dreams were trying to overwhelm him. His brother lying dead on the ground, the world burning around him. Faces, some familiar, some only seen in pictures of those who had fallen in the fight, stared at him and told him. Told him it was all his fault. That they wouldn't be dead if it wasn't for him.

How was that equivalent exchange?

The noise and the quiet battled inside his head, through his body. He was thinner than ever, unable to keep anything down, and he found his hands constantly trembling.

Why did he live, and not them?

Was he even truly alive anymore?

It had been thirteen months since the Promise day. Thirteen months since the entire country stood together in defense of those they loved. Thirteen months since a God had been destroyed, and peace could finally be claimed.

Thirteen months, five days, and two hours, was the exact time when Ed packed his bag, left the apartment, and locked it behind him.

Thirteen months, five days, and four hours, was the time when Ed left Central, and all the people and things he used to know behind.

Thirteen months, five days, and four and a half hours, and Ed was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is Major General Mustang," Mustang spoke curtly into the phone, grimacing as Hawkeye added another stack of paperwork to his desk.

"Ah, hello, Sir" a small tinny voice echoed through the phone line, and even though the quality was horrid Mustang knew it at once.

"Alphonse, I'm surprised to hear from you, how are things in Xing?" Mustang leaned back in his chair, ignoring the looks from the rest of his team as they heard who was calling.

"It...It's been fine, umm, look, have you heard from Ed lately?"

Mustang looked down at the receiver and blinked, then moved it up to his ear again, "No, why?" A small smirk stole across his face, "What has the shortie done this time?"

The line remained silent for a time, and slowly Mustang's smirk faded from his face, "Alphonse?"

"He hasn't written to me in over three weeks," Al blurted out, and instantly Mustang tensed.

"Say that again," Mustang moved forward in his chair, not noticing how everyone else in the office froze.

"Ed, he, he usually writes once a week, I mean, sometimes he forgets because he is busy, but he hasn't written in three weeks and I tried to call him but he hasn't responded, and lately his letters have seemed sort of off, and I don't know what to do and I'm really worried because I called Winry and she hasn't heard from him in months! And this isn't like him at all! " Al panted after speaking so quickly, and let out a slow breath.

"Just, just have you seen him lately? Is he okay?"

Mustang could hear the creaking grip Alphonse had on the phone, and closed his eyes.

How long had it been since he had seen Edward? He had hung about the office for a bit after the Promise Day, helping with some of the reports...but after that... Dread started to fill Mustang's chest as he tried to think of the last time he had seen Fullme- Edward. Could it have really been that long, over six months since he had last laid eyes on him.

"Excuse me for a moment, Al," Mustang placed the receiver on his desk, black eyes shadowed.

"Sir?" Hawkeye had moved closer, and Mustang shook his head and looked around at his team.

"Has anyone seen Ed?"

Silence met his statement, and he internally cringed as every single face began to bleach of color.

"Why? Is something wrong with Boss?" Breda asked.

Mustang breathed out his nose, "Alphonse hasn't heard from him in three weeks, and the last time I saw him was over six months ago, have any of you seen him since then?"

Black shadows of fear began to loom over the group as they all shook their heads.

"Last time I saw him was when he was in the office," Falman spoke quietly, "Maybe he has gone to Resembool?"

Mustang grimaced, "Apparently he hasn't been in contact with anyone in Resembool for even longer."

"Does anyone know where he lives? He had to leave the dorms because he isn't a State Alchemist anymore, where did he go?" Fuery spoke.

"Alphonse might know," Hawkeye pointed out, and Mustang nodded, turning back into his office.

"Alphonse?"

"Yes, sir?" his voice was filled with tension.

Mustang swallowed heavily, "Alphonse, do you know where Ed was living?"

"Uh, yes, it is a small apartment, near the eastern entrance, 1547 Truely St., apartment 26...you haven't seen him either, have you?" Alphonse's voice became muted at the end of the sentence.

"No, we haven't seen him for months," Mustang replied, just as quietly, "I'm going to head over to the apartment complex now, will this number get back to you?"

"Yes, I mean, it is a university phone but I'm going to wait for a bit...I mean, yes, I will be here...if-when you find him can you make him call me, please?" Alphonse pleaded.

"Of course, I will have a few words with him as well for causing so much trouble," Mustang spoke with a falsely cheerful voice.

Al might have let out a wet cough, "Okay, I'll just...I'll just wait for him then." Alphonse then hung up the phone.

Mustang breathed out quickly, his hands knuckled against his desk, gloves tensing and furling.

He breathed out again, and walked back to the main room, "I'm going out, Hawkeye, Falman you are with me, Fuery, Breda, finish what you are working on, but don't start on the requisition forms yet, I have a feeling that we are going to have to change things."

The team saluted, and Hawkeye and Falman followed Mustang out of the building.

"Where to, sir?" Hawkeye spoke just quiet enough for only Mustang to hear her.

" 1547 Truely St, near the East gate," Mustang replied just as quietly.

Hawkeye blinked, her eyes shining with confusion, "Why would he get an apartment all the way out there? He certainly had enough money left over, there is no reason to live out that far."

"I know," Mustang replied, and they all climbed into a waiting car.

~~.~~

The apartment complex was bland, beige walled, no trim, every apartment looked exactly the same. The street had little to no traffic, and there was almost no noise besides the rustling of the wind over the pavement.

Edward Elric would never have been caught dead in a place like this.

Hawkeye and Falman must have been thinking the same thing, because Mustang could see their shoulders tensing, and Hawkeye's face twitch through her calm facade.

"...this is disconcerting," Falman spoke as they walked through the main entrance.

Mustang gave him a small nod, and moved over to the front desk. The lady behind the counter was reading a magazine, idly flipping through the pages.

"Excuse me, Miss," Mustang started, only using a little of his charisma to get her attention, "I need to talk to the person in apartment 26."

"Well, you are shit out of luck, there ain't any one in apartment 26, last guy left a month ago," the woman looked up, and placed the magazine down, "You military? What he do wrong, always the ones who pay up front, those are the shadiest."

"He left? Where did he go, did he leave a mailing address?" Mustang heart clenched and froze.

"Yeah. left, got back his down payment and walked out, only a suitcase, looked right done too if you know what I mean," the woman shrugged.

Anger, trepidation, and fear began to course through Mustang's this woman could be so callous, did she have no idea what Edward had done for her, for all of them? She wouldn't even be alive if he hadn't saved them all.

"What do you mean by 'right done'?" Hawkeye spoke from behind him, her tone laced with danger.

"Oh, ya know," the lady flapped her hand a bit, not knowing what she was provoking, "Seen it before, guy down the street. They get all quiet and shit and then a week later someone complains about the smell and they find them swinging."

Mustang let out a sharp sound and almost took a step back, his thumb and finger rubbing together. Hawkeye had moved her hands over her gun holster.

"Did he leave anything in the room? We need to look around," Falman calmly moved forward, drawing the woman's attention away from Mustang.

"Dunno, here, have the keys, I need 'em back in an hour, though," the woman tossed the keys to him, and returned to her magazine.

The three walked up to the room, Mustang not even paying attention to the steps or the layout, or the dreary interior and cookie cutter style.

Suicidal.

Ed was- is suicidal?

That, that couldn't be right, that was the opposite of Ed in all ways, wasn't it?

And yet...Mustang found himself drawn back to the aftermath of Ishval... the pain and loneliness, the utter defeat in the knowledge of what he had done. The longing for oblivion and the quiet that would hopefully come afterwards.

Maes and Riza were the only reasons he had kept going...they had forced him again and again. Until he had finally found a goal that he could strive towards, something that he wanted to change.

And he had met the Elrics, Ed just..had a way of giving someone drive, of making them want to do their best, to stand up again and again like he had.

But what did Ed do after he had finished his goal? He no longer had a driving force, and his alchemy was gone as well. Ed had saved the world at the age of sixteen. What goal could ever compare to that?

Ed had people too, of course he did...but it seems that he had slipped through all of the cracks...

Mustang seethed internally, looking over the past six months. How could he have not noticed? How could he have forgotten? The excuse that he was busy fixing the government was just that, an excuse. When had his team stopped inviting Ed out with them to bar nights, when had they stopped noticing that he was no longer stomping into the room and slamming the door open. How could they have forgotten him, forgotten about him, not realized what they were doing?

"Did Ed ever go talk to psychiatrist? After everything?" Falman wondered allowed, and Mustang shook his head.

"Of course he didn't...he hates doctors," Mustang closed his eyes, his fingers itching to set something on fire.

"He was a sixteen year old who stopped an entire war, lost what he probably felt was his most defining feature, watched as the whole world was going to die, and finally reached the goal he had set out for himself to reach, of course he would never need a damn doctor" Mustang growled out, pushing forward and taking the keys from Falman, opening the door to the apartment.

The walls were beige, the floors a medium tan hardwood. The standard furniture was cream.

There were no punch marks on the walls, no sign of doors being slammed, no books piled up, no crackling edge that showed that alchemy had been used to cover up an accident.

A large whoosh of air left Mustang's lungs, and he knew, even before they began their hour long search of the apartment, that Ed was long gone. And that there was nothing left.

~~.~~

"Yes?"

"Alphonse...we just checked out Ed's apartment." Mustang spoke every word with precision and perfect diction, a bland mask kept over his features.

Silence followed, and then, "Sir, where is my brother?"

Mustang closed his eyes, and tried to swallow, his throat dry.

"He is gone, Alphonse."


	3. Chapter 3

Edward didn't so much as twitch when someone moved to stand over him, his looming shadow blocking out the sun. Edward breathed out calmly from where he was sat, some steps in a large park, looking out over the slowly rebuilt homes in Ishval. He had a plain brown coat and hood on, but that didn't seem to deter the person in the background.

Ten minutes passed and the looming continued, causing some passers by to start looking in their direction.

Edward breathed out a sigh, leaning his head back the tiniest bit, "What do you want, Scar?"

The Ishvalan looked down at him, his face not even twitching in the slightest. He had forgone his sunglasses, and his hair had grown out, but besides that he hadn't changed a bit since Edward last saw him.

"...people are looking for you," the man spoke, Edward let his head fall back down to his chest and shrugged.

A few more minutes of silence passed, and Scar let out an aggravated sound before he grabbed one of Ed's arms, pulling him to his feet.

"I'm not going back," Ed spoke as he followed behind Scar, not even trying to pull away.

The man in front of him didn't respond, Ed muttered under his breath, but continued to follow.

They stopped at a small building just off one of the main roads. Scar dragged him inside, and then moved him towards some seats by a table.

Edward blinked, once or twice, and sat down in one of the chairs, not even glancing at the room around him just staring blankly at the table. His fingers curled lightly into his palms.

Scar sat down across from him, glaring at him.

Edward didn't look up.

"Where are you going?" Scar finally spoke again, seeming to find Edward's silence annoying.

If Ed had had the energy he might have found that funny. He just shrugged his shoulders again, not looking up from the table. Some more time passed in silence; Ed should have guessed Scar was good at waiting.

"...dunno," Ed spoke quietly, "somewhere."

Scar rose from his seat and padded into the kitchen, coming back with a glass and some food.

Ed almost thought about making a quip about him getting all domestic, but instead just nodded his head in thanks.

"There is a train to Xing leaving tomorrow," Scar said.

Edward looked up for the first time, blinking at him," What?"

Scar rolled his eyes, "I'll get you a ticket."

Edward blinked again, he hadn't even realized the railroad had been finished.

"...I..." Ed just stared blankly at him.

"Stay here until then, I won't tell them," Scar rose from his seat, and left the building.

Edward stared around for a few moments, before returning to the food in front of him. He ate a third of it before he stopped. He binned the rest and cleaned the dishes, and finally settled on curling up on the couch in the living area.

Scar came back late into the night, and placed the ticket and information down on the table next to the couch.

When Scar got up the next morning the couch was empty, and it looked as if no one had ever been there.

Except for a small crinkled sheet of paper that had a single word on it.

Scar sighed out, and got ready for work that day.

~~.~~

It was long after the train had left that Scar made the call.

After a few connection changes, (and quite a few threats as well) he finally was able to call the right person.

"Hello? May I ask what is the purpose of this call?" an accented voice spoke down the line.

"Tell the Emperor Kid it is about Edward Elric," Scar said, and the line went quiet.

A few second of silence, punctuated by noises in the background followed, then a voice spoke quickly into his ear.

"Hello? Who is this, what about Ed?" Ling's voice finally responded.

"He is heading to Xing on the train, left today..." Scar replies blandly, "Don't tell the others."

The line goes silent again, followed by a long tired sigh, "Ah...yes. I understand."

Some murmurs broke out from the other line, and then Ling spoke again, "How is he?"

Scar shook his head, "Empty."

He then hung up.

He fucking hated telephone calls.

He began to dial a different number.

~~.~~

Mustang slowly put the phone down, his hands trembling, making it miss the cradle the first try. He breathed out slowly, and then a small tremor of laughter broke out, wet and broken. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and went out into the main office.

Al had come back not even a week after the news, riding in on the inaugural train from Xing. He had been working directly with Mustang for the past month and a half, his missions mainly being the disguise for looking for his brother.

Every single one had come up empty handed.

Mustang knocked on the side of his office door, and his team looked up from where they were working.

"Scar saw Ed," were the first words out of his mouth, and in the resounding hush he spoke quickly.

"He stayed with him for a day, but then vanished again," Mustang ran a hand through his hair, breathing out slowly.

Al stood up, and crossed over to him, "Ed, he saw him? Is he alright? What do you mean vanished?"

Mustang grimaced, "He said he was in Ishval, and saw Ed there, he was...unharmed, but not at his best. Scar says he stayed the night but left in the morning."

Al's fists were shaking whether with anger at Scar for not stopping his brother, or just from sheer relief hearing that he was alive.

"I think..." Havoc's voice broke the slowly increasing tension, "I think Scar might be one of the best people he could run into."

Mustang grimaced, but nodded, carefully laying a hand on Al's shoulder

Hawkeye moved next to Al as well "Scar wouldn't have just left him like that, he knows he owes him. He can understand what Edward is going through right now, and most likely agreed to help him in the ways he would accept."

Al nodded, tears blinking in the corners of his eyes, wiping them hastily with the back of his hand.

"I just...," his voice trembled and he took a deep breath, "I just want him to come back."

~~.~~

Mustang let them all off early that day, nothing was going to get down with that news out after all.

He was staring mindlessly at the papers in his office when the door opened and shut, Riza stepping in lightly.

They shared a look, and Roy let out a sigh, "We can't, even if we know he is in Xing, we can't. Scar wouldn't have set it up without someone on the other side. He needs it."

Riza let out a flat sigh, and sat down in one of the chairs in the office, all sense of propriety forgotten with the strain.

"If they can give him what he needs, then we can't interfere..." Roy's eyes shut and he barely stopped his ungloved fingers from snapping just from nerves. "We had a chance and missed it, we can't scare him off this one."

Riza stayed silent, waiting.

"But fuck, I want to call him," Roy let out with a shaky breath, and Riza gave him a small sad smile.

"He will be safe there, you know Ling cares about him, and when he comes back, we can make sure he knows we do too," she spoke quietly.

"...if he comes back," Mustang spoke out into the office.

Riza gave him a sad little nod, and left.

~~.~~

Ed blinked slowly, eyes getting used to the sun. He let out a low sigh, still a bit confused.

Why in the world did he come to Xing in the first place?

He just...ended up on the train.

He grimaced a bit, and then slowly looked up at the person who appeared in front of him.

"Edward," Lan Fan spoke lightly, her face not covered by her mask, and her clothes utterly civilian.

He blinked in surprise.

She smiled at him, and carefully took his arm.

"Ling is waiting for you," she replied to the confused look on his face. She must have read something else, maybe his face, maybe his qi.

"Ling, not the Emperor of Xing," she replied, and Edward felt something in him utterly relax, almost close to breaking.

"...alright," and Ed followed her away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds.


End file.
